Guardian
by january blue
Summary: They were all burning, somehow. Spinning with Spira and Sin didn't let them love.
1. Kimahri

**i.**

His silhouette against the sunset is blue and calming in the heat of fire. (_Some fires can't be calmed, remember__._) He is not old, but at the same time, not young. He never cries, because that is not what a Rhonso does. _('Rhonso will deal with Rhonso problems,' he says, low and grumbling and safe._) He is rain when there is drought. He is still there when the world is falling through the dark places from children's dreams.

He is hornless in the face of Sin, but he is not afraid.

And she loves him, because he is her father, her brother, her friend.

('_Hornless,' they taunt. 'He is hornless and small.'_) They do not know that he is blue and calming and not old and never young. They do not know that he does not cry. They do not care that he cannot smile.

Which, of course, is the saddest thing of all.

He wants to make that girl happy, more than anything—he does not want his friends to worry, you see—but he can't smile for her. He'll try and will fail, (_and 'Poor Kimahri,' they say, 'Poor unsmiling, hornless, small, calming Kimahri. He can't smile.'_) But he smiles inside, and he finds that it isn't as horrible as they think. It isn't as horrible as he sometimes thinks.

Because with them—his friends, his responsibilities—he is happy. And that is enough.

A great blue mass standing tall when the world is falling down all around him. (_The spiral twirls downward._) He stands against the sunset and they look at him and he is not smiling. He is just there. He is hornless and small. But he has belonging here.

He is hornless in the face of the downward spiral.

But he is not afraid.

* * *

**&:** a/n: Yep... so... this is _Guardian_. ...So yep. It's when I get real bored and I'll just do a little thing for each of the guardians of that one Yuna person, and then I shall be happy. Or something. I did Kimahri first because I think he deserves some kind of fic. Because... he's all... aaaaaw... And sadness and stuff. So he gets a special thing with stuff. I really need to learn to speak. That's alright. I can't believe I just wrote a drabble about _Kimahri. _...Whatever. This section was in need of Kimahri sympathizers. ...This'll 6 chapters. Yep.


	2. Lulu

**ii.**

You've seen it once. You've seen it a thousand times.

You'll cast a glance on her, sitting, (_cold_), surrounded by smiling faces, and you'll think you know her. (_With a cute little dress made out of leather and eyes like blood._) She is tortured, you will say, just like the rest of us. She's nothing special around here. She's just the same as anyone in Spira. She _is _Spira; breathing only when the world breathes and only happy when there's no chance of danger.

Her lips are not smiling. Her beautiful eyes are not sparkling. (_The prettiest tortue he's ever seen._) So, you will think you know that she lost her love and she is pained when her eyes brush over that boy who looks just like him. You will think you know what she feels when, and it's an accident, she glances ever-so-calmly at the man she can't love. (_Getting along isn't enough._) And she did. She _does._ But, that's not... If he could ever get the story right, you'd understand. You'd see the way her hand clenched around his sometimes when no one else was looking. And you'd know that he'll never complain if she burns him because he's hurting her too, and he doesn't know many things, but the one thing he knows the best is that she'd be better off without him.

She can handle it on her own and her eyes made from blood will hold her up and pin her to the sky.

She won't let you in, but you know this too.

And when the beast finally falls into that bottomless blue ocean and it won't ever come up again, not _ever, _do you think she'll even remember what peace felt like? She's the calmest woman you've ever seen, but the Calm scares her more than she'd like to admit. There is something on just the edge of her memory. (_Mother. Roses. Smoke. Ebony. Orange. Safety. Safety. Safety._) That's what she needs the most these days.

Now, her eyes will still look just like blood and her skin will still be five shades too pale and her hair will still be done up in dark braids down her shoulders. But she'll see. She'll see crystal clear. Not death and the beast. (_Sin was never her worst fear anyway, really._) Her memories. (_Scattered and falling and wonderful._)

She'll see _future._


	3. Rikku

**iii.**

She was little but she's the biggest. (_With a smile brighter than sunshine._) She was happy but hurt. (_Crying for dead faces she'd never seen_.) She was a liar but genuine. (_She fought so damn hard._)

They couldn't figure her out.

She was a girl but a woman, woven out of contradictions and secret places. But things weren't always this way, she told him, like he'd listen. Once upon her time her people were good and proud and untorn and pure. They were still good, she told him, not in so many words. (_But she never had the right words anyway._) She was good once, too.

Her sunshine hair still glowed when the great Spiran sun that went down and surrendered to the nothingness. Her eyes still sparkled when the stars fell out of the sky and were wished on for dying. (_Magical._) Sick, she thought. It was sick because she felt the grief of them watching them fall, twisting through darkness… and fighting it so damn hard.

But it doesn't matter, she thinks. Because her smile outshone the sun when they needed it most. And when she needed them, they pulled her in and she was a child again. They could see the yearning behind her eyes. And they loved her for her lies and her hurt and her heart. They loved her for her bright blond hair and her huge, green eyes.

And in the end, he listened. In the end, he told her once, she was still good too. (_Not in so many words._)

**

* * *

a/n:** Well, I'm literate again. (Somewhat, anyway.) And I've come to say that I really liked both the Kimahri and Lulu ones. This, I'm not as big of a fan of. I couldn't put in any, like… (rikku x gippal) because I wouldn't allow myself. After all, this is the FFX section. Not the FFX-2. So, I dunno. Rikku's hard to be serious about. Maybe I'm just a dork.

Next up is… hmm… Auron. Yep… So, I'll see you all at the movies.


	4. Auron

**iv.**

It was a bottle of truth and lies and stories. It hung by his hip. Four Xs marked the spot.

They knew what was in that bottle. But they never guessed the truth. (_It tore at them._) They never spotted the lie. (_He betrayed them._) The tales of others gone before were lost to them. (_It protected them._) This man, with his unbeating heart and his talk of stories, did not want them to be crumpled like him.

His story was over. But it wasn't _over_. This was just the epilogue, he told himself, a swig of lies burning down his throat. But, in the end, it was more of his story than before he died at the hands of someone who was supposed to be beautiful and clean. Maybe, at times, life was just the prologue.

With a bottle and four Xs, he hitched a ride on the back of his own friend to go rescue his own friend's son, and he knew that someday, his time would come. Until then, he would sit. And he would wait. And he would smile, a bit. Because he knew what was coming. He knew about the city made out of dreams.

His red cloak was heavy on his shoulders, truths and lies and fairytales tugging on his side. This man just wanted it to end. More than once, his eye flicked to the summoner. He did not tell them where the other had gone. (_Send me. Send me._) He needed to finish this. His story wasn't over yet.

But he was so tired, summoner, so tired.

(_Finish it._)

His truth-lie-story-bottle fell away when the story ended. When dreams faded and destiny were fulfilled. But it wasn't over yet.

Don't misunderstand, that poor old man finally got some sleep.

But for one reason or another, he dreamt about the days when he couldn't.


	5. Wakka

**v.**

His brother needed a brother, and he was given as much of a parent as he never had. A twelve-year-old with big determined brown eyes and hair to shame clowns decided that he would raise this kid right. (_Who will feed you both?_) He didn't think of that. (_Where will you bring him when the sun goes down?_) He didn't think of that. (_Who will raise _you_…?_) He didn't think at all.

She told him he was being childish.

With a quick grin, he knew she was right. (_Who will raise the ball player with dreams?_) No one ever did. She tried. And they both grew up all too quickly. Never knew the luxury of afternoon mudpies and scabby knees. He never knew that his mother once called him her Little Guardian. (_No wonder he was drawn to summoners, they laughed._) Ordinary days were paradise.

He was not a parent. He was not an adult. Not a child. This man was not a bliztball player. He was just a guardian.

And a friend.

And she was thankful for that.


	6. Tidus

**vi.**

(_I just... want him with me..._) None of them knew why. He was the one chosen, not for skill or friendship, but for that feeling in her gut where she kept her instincts. He was chosen without anyone even knowing his name. He was her guardian, but, no, he was more than that. There were two very different eyes brushing over them, and someone was out of place.

Out of place.

But he somehow belonged with her. (_Always._)

They were (just a little) _happy._

But at some point he realized something was wrong.

When he'd look at himself in the Moonflow and his reflection flickered, just a little bit. Just enough.

(_When he'd look at her and dread something he didn't know was coming._)

At some point, he realized.

(_He loved the summoner's messy hair and her trying to be perfect and her eyes—_Yevon, those eyes—_and her spirit and her will and her determination and her selflessness and how she made him feel like he was something that belonged and her smile._ (Slow poetry.)_ He belonged_ _with her. _Always.)

But, even so.

At some point

(_Spira, that boy loved that girl._)

he knew he wasn't going to make it through.


End file.
